Save The Princess, Get a Kiss
by kiyokoyotsuki316
Summary: Kenny feels remorse for someone who cant hate. KennyxButters, slight DamienxPip. I do not own South Park or its peoples.
1. Chapter 1

"Fuck you, Mario…" I grumbled, my voice muffled by my orange parka. I was the first one to the bus stop today, and decided to spend the time I had before the others arrived playing Mario and Luigi; Super Star Saga on the game boy advanced I had pilfered from GameStop about a week ago. I hadn't even made it into the bean bean kingdom before I noticed something happening across the street. A light blue coat… shocks of blond hair whipping about in the wind and snow… I felt my eyebrow raise as I registered Butters moving along the snow encased sidewalk on the other side of the road. He lived near Stan, Kyle and Cartman. Yet he never waited here for the bus with us. Well, I guess if I was in his shoes I wouldn't either. We've gotten that kid into a shit ton of hurt. A shuriken to the eye (I winced inwardly as I recalled the incident.) to him having to be checked into a psychiatric ward and had some weird machine shoved up his ass… yeah. I don't blame his reluctance to hang out with us. _Crunch_… the snow gave way beneath my feet, as I stepped forward. I had a strange yanking feeling in my chest… I couldn't really explain it, not even to myself, really. But I wanted to let the poor kid know that I didn't mean to get him hurt all those times… I felt the snow crunch beneath my feet again as I took another step, but I hesitated. Why would he want to even speak to us? To me? I watched my feet, half engulfed in the snow as I let him walk on his way, down the street. No sooner had I lost sight of his light blue coat had Stan arrived, smiling cheerily, even as the snow whipped and swirled around his face. "Sup, dude?" he asked, tugging his beanie hat a little lower on his head. I gestured to my Gameboy, still in my hand. I tried to avoid speaking in weather like this. In order for anyone to hear me (aside from Stan, Kyle, and Cartman, who somehow learned to decipher what I was saying even through the several layers of clothe over my mouth.) I had to pull down my hood and scarf and then my face would get all cold… ugh. Sometimes I preferred it in hell.

"Dude, can I tell you something?" Stan asked, kind of whisper yelling, trying to be heard over the sound of the icy wind in our ears. I felt my eyes widen slightly. What could Stan have to tell _me_? And _not _Kyle? I nodded, still not feeling the need to speak to the raven haired jock. "I… I think I love Kyle." He said, only faltering for a moment, and rushing the rest of the sentence as if he was afraid he'd chicken out if he didn't. Again, my eyes widened. I blinked twice, waiting for the sentence to fully register. "You… love Kyle? Like… _love_ love him?" I stammered, finally speaking. He furrowed his brow a bit, before nodding in confirmation. I let this information soak in, nodding softly. It made since honestly. I mean, they are best friends, you rarely see one without the other, they have only had like two or three falling outs and those never lasted long, and they always put each other's feelings before their own. Hell, they might as well be dating already! But I could see Stan's dilemma. "I'm assuming you haven't told him?" I asked, turning back to my Gameboy. He sighed. "No, I haven't… should I?" he asked, his raven eyebrows furrowed again. "Well, duh. Eventually." I said, fighting the buttons of the gaming system with my gloved hands. Stan opened his mouth to respond, but immediately shut his trap when he saw Kyle heading our way. He grinned, waving his hand excitedly above his head and greeting Kyle. Jeez… try not to make it too obvious, Stan. I grinned, turning back to my game. I heard Stan asking the Jewish kid to come over to his house and I smirked, knowing what he planned to tell the boy, my attention being torn away from my game once more as I heard Cartman interject suddenly. As I watched the fat bastard insult Kyle (a morning routine, I believe) I noticed a certain look in his eye, a certain way he moved around Kyle and I had to contain my surprise at my sudden realization. The lard ass loved Kyle too! I found it hard to contain my snickering, so I bit down on my orange scarf, and tried to focus on my game.

The bell rang to begin class, and I walked the steps of South Park High, by myself. Stan had to run off to gym class because he hated changing where others could see him and he wanted to get the bathroom stall to change in. Kyle had run off to the library to his first class. If I could get grades just for helping some dried up old broad organize some books, id be in a much better educational position. Cartman simply didn't want to be seen walking in with "someone so poor" and ran off somewhere. I sighed, ruffling my dirty blonde hair. Dirty as in darker. Not actual. You know. Dirt. I pulled out my phone (also stolen.) and did a quick run through of my contacts. "Yolanda… no. Mary? No. hm. Bebe… oh god no." poor or not, I had the good fortune of having (apparent) good looks and charisma. No girl in school could resist me (except Wendy, but who really wants Wendy anyway? She's a battle axe already and she's not even twenty yet!), unfortunately, no girl could seem to satisfy me either. And while I admitted to myself that I was unopposed to being attracted to a male, I had yet to find one that I felt like bothering with. I raised my eyebrow as my phone buzzed in my hand. I opened it to find that a cute young tart I had been eyeing for a while had some how gotten a hold of my number and had texted me. I made my way to my first period; I was late now, so I was in no rush. I walked into my career management (ha! Me? A career? Good one, educational system.) class, To a stern disapproving look from the teacher. "Kenny McCormick?" she asked, the distaste in her voice as she said my last name deciding how I was going to act in this class. I nodded, walking to the only available seat, a seat next to Butters. The teacher, (I hadn't listened to her name. it wouldn't matter anyway, I was going to duck this class a lot anyway) handed me some sort of printed assignment as I took my seat. I disregarded it, pulling out my Gameboy and looking her in the eye. "Ah. Gee, Kenny. I don't think you're supposed to have that out…" Butters said, twiddling his fingers together. It made me smile a bit. He actually didn't hate me, it seemed. I grinned at him. "I'm a rule breaker, Butters." I said as I winked at him. I thought I saw his face tinge pink a bit, but I must've been imagining things. "Ah, um, Kenny, I really don't wanna get suspended and grounded for playing in class…." He said, to timid to actually ask me to put it away. I smiled sympathetically and put the Gameboy back in my pocket, much to Butters' relief.


	2. Chapter 2

When the bell rang for the next class, I stood to practically run out of the door, but paused when I saw Clyde making his way over. "Hey Ken." He greeted me and I raised my hand to wave, when I noticed he kept walking past me. He was headed for Butters. I turned to watch, feeling cautious for some reason. Butters hadn't moved from his seat yet, and when he looked up from gathering his things to see Clyde coming near him, his face paled. "Ah, gosh, Clyde… not again…" he managed to whimper before his face was slammed into the desk in front of him. "Hey there, Leopold." Clyde said, voice dripping with contempt. He proceeded to grind Butters' face into the wooden desk, laughing darkly. "Hey Clyde." I called, trying to disguise my glare as a friendly look. He looked up, slightly peeved that I had interrupted his fun. "I think Bebe called you." I continued, earning a look of surprise, then smugness. "I'm sure. Alright. Catch you later, Ken. And" he paused, turning to look behind him as he made his way to the door. "Get ready Butters." He finished, leaving the room.

"Butters, what was that about?" I questioned the slightly shaky blond as we walked down the hall together. "Oh, gosh, Kenny… Clyde has been poking fun at me for a while now. Since Cartman doesn't bother with m-me anymore, Clyde does…" he began ringing his hands nervously, watching his feet as we walked. We had our next class together, so I saw no reason to abandon the poor kid, especially now that he seemed to be in quite a predicament. "Poking fun? Butters he just slammed your head into a desk!" I hissed, keeping my voice low since I didn't want even more negative attention brought towards the weaker boy. "Ah, he's just having a bit of fun is all…" I frowned. This kid had been through so much abuse that he didn't even recognize it as abuse anymore. To him, that was the way things were supposed to be. It made me sick. I grabbed his wrist. "c'mon. We're getting out of here." I said, more darkly than I had originally planned in my head. He whimpered, but didn't fight me physically. He only made small remarks as I pushed open the big double doors at the end of the main hall. "I'm gonna get gr-grounded…" or "please, Kenny… I work in the office third block…" but I ignored it, though I did feel kinda bad for his impending groundation. I walked him through the snow, down the street a bit. I saw the Tweak family coffee shop a bit down the way and steered us in that direction. "Ah, gee Kenny…" he stammered, near to having a heart attack it seemed by now. I didn't have enough money to buy us anything (damn poverty…) so I settled into a booth near the back of the shop, near the heater and sat Butters across from me. "What are we doing here?" he asked, too concerned about getting in trouble to stammer at the moment. "You aren't some door mat Butters. You can't keep letting people walk over you." I said, deciding to get right to the nitty gritty instead of beating around the bush about why I had just practically kidnapped the smaller blond. Well, that was partially why I had dragged him off school grounds. The other reasons? Well… honestly I had no idea. Damn my impulsiveness. But hey, when your immortal it doesn't really matter if you think about your actions, now does it? You make a rash decision, die and wham bam thank you ma'am, you wake up in bed, unscathed. But in emotional things like this… immortality doesn't exactly help. "Oh… no one's walking over me, Kenny." He smiled at me, his face lighting up. He was adorably girly. His soft blonde hair had gotten longer and framed his face wildly. His turquoise eyes shimmered in a way that I had never seen before, and I had to admit… I was enchanted by it. I cleared my throat. "Butters, you can't let Clyde harass you, ok?" I replied. "Ah, gee. He's just playing around." He smiled again. I died a little inside. Strange feeling really. For someone who dies physically damn near every day, dying emotionally is a foreign and hard to understand feeling. I mean, I won't just wake up in bed this time. This pain won't just go away by tomorrow morning. It's going to take some getting used to. Watching Butters' cheery face made my stomach turn in a way I haven't felt before. I mean, sure, I've died of explosive diarrhea before (one of my least favorite, yet admittedly funny deaths.), I've even died from eating a bowlful of alka seltzer tablets and drinking water, so I'm no stranger to weird feelings in my stomach. But this feeling wasn't… unpleasant in the least. It was simply strange. I was starting to get an idea of why, but it still confused me. "Butters… if Clyde bothers you again, I'm going to rip his head off." I spoke darkly, and for a moment, Butters' smile faltered, but it returned along with a slight tinge of pink on his cheeks as he asked me if I wanted a brownie or some cocoa.

"Fucking Mario…" I mumbled, now sitting in my room on my dingy futon, playing my game. I was distracted, I kept missing when jumping on enemies, jumping on spiked koopa things, getting lost in puzzle mazes because I couldn't focus. My mind kept going back to Butters. The poor kid. He never wanted to make anyone's life harder, and as a result, his life was the hardest. It made my blood boil to think of how people treat him, of how I used to treat him. I bit my lip, pressing the buttons on my Gameboy a little harder than I should without really realizing it. I hated how I just sat by and let Butters be treated that way for all those years. I died for the fifteenth time that afternoon (on the game)and groaned, tossing the system onto the futon dejectedly. I knew in the back of my head why I felt this way. And as I said before, I am not opposed to being attracted to a male. But this was more than attraction. This was… desire? No no… that sounds like it's strictly physically based. It's not. I just want him. Like, I just really want to hold him and protect him and claim him as mine. This is more than banging one out and leaving before he wakes up. This was… love. I stood up, sighing, and walked to my window, staring out at the cloud cover, usually grey, but pink in the evening light. It made the whole sky look like a sheet of cotton candy, and I smiled, imagining Butters' reaction to such a thing. I watched the sleepy way the clouds crawled across the sky, thoughts whirling in my head. How could I love him? There's nothing wrong with Leopold, but we hadn't spoken much over the years. Though, I had to admit, I did always seem to notice him, even in a huge crowd, Leopold Stotch would stick out to me. But that was merely a crush, I assumed. How could a day of hanging out with the sweet little blond develop my feelings so much? Was he that enchanting? Even as I thought this, I knew the answer was yes. He was. I had never honestly felt like anyone gave a shit about me, until Butters smiled at me this morning. Granted, I don't really expect anyone to be extra concerned about me. After Damien visited again and provided proof to everyone that I was immortal, everyone knew of my dying habit, and could remember if I died, if they bothered. I mean, why would they try and remember? I'm just going to die again later. And yet, somehow out live them. But Butters… I liked to think that Butters cared. I knew he did, actually. Butters always cared about everyone. I heard the gunshot before I felt the shock of pain through my forehead. I had just enough time before my brain shut down to feel the way my head violently jerked back, the blood trail down the ridge of my nose, and flow over my lips. I was vaguely aware of my body falling backwards, the back of my skull smashing against the rough carpet of my room.


	3. Chapter 3

"Good morning, Mr. McCormick." My teacher said, her voice slimy and venomous. Damn it Kevin… fuck you. Giving every teacher I've ever had the impression that all McCormick men are little assholes that do nothing but fuck bitches and duck class. I glared at her while inwardly cursing my older brothers shenanigans when it came to school. I had a headache from dying yesterday. Apparently someone was hunting and a stray bullet caught me in the head. That shit happens more often than you'd think it would. I am not a pro-guns kinda man. It was always strange dying in such physical ways. Got cut in half by a train? Whole mid-section is sore the next day. Suffocated? Here, enjoy some raspy breathing tomorrow. Hit by a bus? All the sore muscles want to sing your pain receptors the song of their people. I pushed past her and sat by the sweet blond from yesterday. "h-hiya Kenny!" he chirped, and though it made my head throb, I smiled back and waved at him. "What's up Butters?" I questioned, smiling through the throbbing behind my forehead as I took in his cheery aura. The way his pouty, pink lips curved into a smile made my heart sing. "I got grounded." He said, though he didn't seem upset about this fact at all. I assumed that after seventeen years of being grounded for nothing, you start to give less fucks and either accept it or just go along with it. I frowned a bit. "Sorry, bunny." I said, averting my eyes. "Um… wh-what?" he stammered. I looked back at him, to see his head crooked to the side, like a confused puppy and I felt my jeans immediately tighten, along with my heart strings. Goddamn it, Kenny McCormick! Keep yourself in check! "Ah… what'd I say?" I blurted. "You… you called me Bunny." He said, only stuttering a bit. I suddenly wished for another stray bullet. Or maybe the roof would cave in again? Oh, please? But no. nothing. For once. Nothing killed me randomly. So I gulped. "so-sorry Butters…." I said, turning away from him in my seat, pretending to pay attention to the teacher ( she had long since given up on her attempt to wait for us to stop our conversation and had resumed teaching). I suddenly felt this little angle soft touch on my hand as I reached to pick up my pencil. I looked up into Butters' face, seeing this angelic smile and glittering turquoise eyes. "N-n-no one's ever given me a personal nickname. Everyone just calls me Butters 'cause Leopold" he said his real name with a certain distaste "isn't a very cool name. Y-you can call me Bunny if you like." It was around that point that the teacher had lost her patience (why work with high school students if you don't have a lot of patience?) and started a rant about how kids today never listened and something about calling our parents (ha, good luck you old dried up cantaloupe. My family didn't have a house phone.). I looked over at Butters, who looked mortified now. "Miss, it was mostly me. There's no need to call his parents." I spoke up, shocking Butters. "Of course…" she said, then mumbled something along the lines of "damn McCormicks…"

"So, Bunny" I grinned, loving that I had the privilege of giving him a nickname "what's our next class? Drama, was it?" I asked, restricting the urge to cringe. That's what happens when you don't go to the open house thing and pick your own elective. You get thrown into drama class with all the emo kids. Sure, they were a great source of cigs and they never seemed to have any shortage of lighters, but come on! Drama? Me? Kenny McCormick? Nope. Nope, nope, nope. jpeg. But my bunny-dear would be there, and that would make it alright. He smiled. "They're already starting the casting for a play." He was beaming, until he noticed something over my shoulder, and his face fell immediately. I glanced over my shoulder to see Clyde making his way past exiting students towards us. I frowned and I heard Butters cower slightly. "Hey there, stotchy." Clyde spoke darkly, ignoring my presence this time. I stood up, planting myself between Butters and him. I saw the look of fear that crossed his face momentarily. I had grown much taller, the second tallest in my group of friends next to Stan and Cartman, who were about the same height. I towered over Clyde by at least a few inches, and while I wasn't as muscular looking as Cartman, I was indeed much thicker than the starting-to-get-out-of-shape Clyde. "What's this, McCormick?" he sneered when the fear left his features. "Just back off, Donovan." I said, speaking his last name in a way that showed my lack of respect for him, as he had done to me. "Ah… Kenny, its fine…" Butters quipped from behind me, his eyes trained on his sky blue converses as he shivered a bit in nervous fear. "No, Bunny. It's not." I replied, glancing over my shoulder at him, offering a reassuring smile. "Bunny? What the fuck is that about?" Clyde scowled. "Ah… please, Clyde…" Butters started to plead, but was cut off by a vicious glare from Clyde. "Butters. Get over here._ Now_." I bit my lip in anger as I heard the shuffling and movement of Butters leaping from his desk. He stood near Clyde, his back to me, and his head down. Clyde grabbed his cheeks roughly, making him face me. "Tell him you're mine." He spoke into Butters' ear coldly. Butters had started tearing up as he tried to speak with Clyde's hand gripping his face in a vice. "I belong to Clyde…" he spoke sadly, closing his eyes as a tear rolled down his cheek. It was at that point that I lost control of my body. My fist was careening into Clyde's face before I could stop it. I heard Butters' shriek, and heard the clatter as he fell against the teacher's desk. I even heard the first kid yell "fight!". I felt the vibration in my feet as Clyde fell to the tiled flooring, knocking over a few desks. And then I was kicking him. It was like I was watching this happen from behind my eyes, but I could do nothing to stop it. I even had time to reflect on why I was even doing this. Was it because he had made Butters say… _that_… or was it because he made Butters cry? I had no idea, and it seemed my time of meditation was over, as the school security had made their way into the room, their mace cans and batons were armed. I mean, I was a dangerous impoverished kid beating up an upper middle class boy. Of course they need to break out the big guns for me. I felt the sting of the mace invading my eyes and mouth and I heard myself yelp, felt my adam's apple vibrate. I fell backwards, landing on my back and rubbing my eyes with my sleeve. I squinted through the tears and pain and managed to make out a blob of light blue, topped with yellow sitting behind the big brown rectangular blob (the teacher's desk, I believe.). I heard it sob "Kenny! No!" as the first baton strike made contact with my body. A few more. Then there was a particularly hard blow to my cranium, and I knew then that I would have to see Butters tomorrow, because I was about to die.


	4. Chapter 4

I opened my eyes. Brimstone and fire. I sighed. I didn't hate hell, it was certainly much more pleasant than the bible described it. Luaus and barbeques. Nice place. And warm, too. I sighed, walking past the huge crowd of people who had also died that day. "Heya Satan." I greeted him as I walked past, and he smiled for a moment before turning to the other arrivals to tell them their fate. I made my way up the scorched hills to Satan's castle thing. I walked past the guards, fist bumping one and greeting the other with a "hey, Bill.". When I got to my destination, I hesitated. Were those moans I heard? I stared at the door, painted black, with hazmat tape and signs warning against entering plastered over almost every inch. I lifted my hand to knock, hesitating. The spawn of Satan couldn't really do anything to me other than have me tortured for the duration of my short stay here in hell, but I still drew back at the idea of pissing the jackal boy off. I decided against knocking at the moment, and plotted a course for the satanic castle's decked out kitchen.

"You died again?" Damien asked, walking into the kitchen wearing only a pair of black briefs and his various tattoos. "a-yep." I spoke, taking a bite of the sandwich I had prepared myself while I waited. "Oh, hello!" a cheery voice greeted me, addressing me in a familiar British accent. My eyes widened a bit. "P..Pip?" I stammered, nearly choking on my sandwich when I realized what he was wearing. He was practically naked, aside from the few skimpy bits of skin-tight leather that covered his intimate parts and the tight leather belly shirt he wore over his torso. The four-inch platform shoes weren't lost on me either. I rose my eyebrow at Damien, who continued on rambling through the fridge as though this was absolutely normal. Pip took a seat at one of the four chairs and smiled at Damien lovingly as the devil spawn brought some little pastry things (crumpets I assumed) for Pip and a bowl of raw meat for himself, and took a seat at the table across from the brit. "Why thank you, love." Pip chirped, picking up a crumpet and biting it politely. "So, why'd you punch that kid? Clyde was it?" Damien asked, carrying on this conversation as though his sex toy wasn't seated next to me. Oh wait. No that's a collar. Sex slave, it seems. I turned my attention from Pip, who was happily eating and listening, and focused on Damien, who apparently had no intention of explaining. "I don't know. I guess because of how he was treating Butters." I answered, biting my sandwich again. "You love em?" Damien asked, picking up a chunk of the raw ground beef and blowing on it in his hand, using his powers to cook it slightly. I chuckled, placing my sandwich on the plate before me, before leaning back in my chair. "yeah." I answered calmly. "Oh, how wonderful! Have you told him yet, old chap?" Pip chimed in, his cheery face a stark contrast to the BDSM way he was dressed at the moment. It was at that point that I noticed, aside from the collar (which had a tag on it, inscribed with Damien's name), there were multiple bite marks and bruises on the blonde brit. I hesitated for a moment before answering. What kind of stuff was that sweet kid into? If he could be into that… I bit my own tongue as I imagined my sweet little Bunny, handcuffed to the posts of his bed, cooled wax on his stomach and a ball gag in his mouth. Oh, I wasn't ready. "Kenny. Your nose is bleeding." Damien smirked.


	5. Chapter 5

I sat on the bus watching through the window as the snow covered ground blurred by. Alright, Ken. Let's try _not_ to get killed before second period today. All this early morning death is giving me migraines and seriously cutting into my time with Bunny. "Ay, what's up with you?" Cartman asked, flopping his much bigger self on the seat next to me. I glanced over at him. He wasn't the same ass-hat he used to be. Much less annoying. More brooding. But apparently someone had pissed him off. His face was this perpetual shade of red, and his eyes held this unmistakable ferocity. "Nothing. What's up with you?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. He scoffed out a "nothing" and turned his glare on one of the seats a little farther up than us. I craned my neck a bit, and saw Stan and Kyle, joking and discussing video games or whatever the hell they usually talk about, and felt myself smirk. "So you gonna tell him?" I asked, nearly losing my shit at the flustered look Cartman had given me. "I… I don't know what yo-youre talking about!" he stammered, a little louder than he had intended it seemed, since he shrunk away from the curious looks of the other bus passengers. Huh. I didn't know Cartman could stutter if it wasn't some fake act. I grinned at him. "riiiiiiight." I replied, full on laughing when he growled at me, pouted and crossed his arms. Looks like the fat ass had actually developed a bit of cuteness over the years. "So what happened with you and Clyde?" he asked after a few minutes. I stiffened a bit, but said nothing. "They say he's gonna be in the hospital for a while. You broke his nose, his jaw, even cracked his skull a little, apparently." Eric continued tapping his temple as he spoke. I felt a little bad. I hadn't thought about the fact that I was wearing steel toed boots when I started kicking Clyde in the face. Granted, I wasn't thinking of much other than Butters really, but still. "Broke a rib or two, too." He mused, glancing at me. "Why're you so pale all of a sudden? Don't tell me you actually feel bad for hitting him? That guy was a douche." "Is Butters mad at me?" I asked, bringing my hand my lips as I gnawed my thumb absentmindedly. Cartman seemed surprised, but answered. "Not that I know of. But when is Butters legit mad at anyone?" That was true. Even when Butters decided to be an evil villain, he was still so inherently innocent that he couldn't even come up with anything truly hurtful. I nodded, not really paying attention anymore, and he went back to glaring at the two best friends.

As I walked to the room of my first period class I began to feel this deep pulling feeling in my chest. I soon identified it as nervousness, something I hadn't felt since losing my virginity. I was terrified of seeing Butters. I just knew he must hate me. I mean beat the shit out of his (apparent) boyfriend, and probably got my blood all over him when I died… my thoughts were cut short as this small blur of blue and yellow came flying at me, wrapping itself around my midsection. "Kenny!" Butters cried happily, burying his face in my chest. Oh man. I hope my parka didn't smell too much like cigarettes. Or booze. Or poverty. "He-heya, Bunny…" I stuttered, surprised. "You're… not mad at me?" I inquired. "Mad? At you? I thought you must've been mad at me!" he said, hugging me a bit tighter. I noticed that his face was tear stained and his eyes were bloodshot. He must've been crying all night…"Why the hell would I be mad at you, Bun?" I asked, patting his back a little, finding it hard to hide my relief. "Well, I was the one who got you in that fight. And I was the reason you… you…" I could hear the tears welling up inside him again. "Don't fret about it. I die all the time." I said, then adding quickly when I saw the horrified face he made, "besides, I'm here now, right?" I heard him hiccup, and then he beamed that adorable smile at me, and I couldn't help but smile back.

Butters happily skipped by my side on our way to drama (cringe) class. "What's got you in such high spirits, Bunny?" I asked, smiling. He was so adorable. A ray of sunshine in the grey. "We're finally getting to second period together! They're doing casting today." He informed me, skipping ahead of me. I was thoroughly amused to say the least. This kid, horrified of tap shoes (to this day) is so excited about performing. He's come a long way. I entered the auditorium behind him, giving a nod of recognition to the emo kids, who simply blinked at me. I looked around. There were a lot more kids here than I originally expected. A bunch of freshmen, a few juniors and a couple of seniors, all seated in the movie theatre like chairs in front of the stage. I followed Butters down to one of the seats and tuned in to whatever speech the instructor was giving. He looked like some cheap Andy Warhol knockoff, with a bit of Edgar Allan Poe thrown in. his speech was something about "acting is reacting" I don't know. I was already trying to formulate a way out of being in the play. I mean, yeah I could just duck this class, but that would mean less time with Butters. And I know, I know, he doesn't even know I love him, let alone loves me back. But I had grown to cherish my time with him. When you can't die, you're life loses its spark. And Butters seemed to revive the spark in my life. I was cut from my thoughts as the instructor ordered everyone back stage, something about getting ready for casting. I glanced around quickly. Damn emos. They had already slipped away into a dark crevice somewhere. I felt a slight pressure on my hand and looked down to see Butters holding it tightly in his much smaller hand. "I'm nervous…" he said, so quiet I almost didn't hear it. I smiled reassuringly. "You were just bouncing around here a minute ago." I said my heart fluttering when he gave me a halfhearted glare. "Tha-that wa-was before I ha-had to go on st-stage… ah geez…" he stammered, and I chuckled. "Don't worry, Bunny. I'll be right there." His eyes lit up. "You'll help me?" I smiled "yeah, Bun" "oh thank you, thank you, thank you, Kenny!" he cried, leaping up and wrapping his arms around my neck. Well fuck. I guess I _was_ going to try out. I sighed, prying him off me, but smiling. "Alright, let's go." I said, patting him on his back. We made our way back stage and Butters ran off to ask someone what we were supposed to do. I watched him buzzing about, bee lining from one person to another, and felt my heart twinge. I couldn't keep this to myself forever. Oh… he's coming back. Well, I don't have to confess my love today… "We're supposed to introduce ourselves, and read from this." He explained, handing me a copy of some dialog. I gave it a quick run through. Shouldn't be too hard. I glanced over at Butters, who was studying his copy intently. I wanted to reassure him, but I didn't want to break his concentration, so I read over my own copy again. Soon it was almost his turn to go and I was up after him. He stood at in the shadows of the velvet curtains, watching the student ahead of him give his dialog robotically. "Ken! I… I can't d-do this!" he stammered, turning to me. "Will you come on stage with me?" he asked, his eyes huge and pleading. Another reason the name Bunny fit him so well. Those huge sparkly eyes. I sighed. "But the dialog was between a prince and a princess…" "That's alright. I memorized both parts. I'll be the princess." He said, before poking out his bottom lip, begging me silently. I sighed in defeat. Damn his adorableness to hell! Wait… scratch that. If Butters ever went to hell, Satan's boyfriend, Hussain would… ugh I didn't even wanna think about that. "Fine, let's go. That kid is done." I said, leading him by his shoulder out under the bright stage lights. "What's all this?" the instructor asked, rightfully confused. "We're going to do ours together." I explained, since Butters seemed to have frozen up. The instructor sighed, but waved his hand in a "well go on then" kind of gesture. I sighed, and turned to Butters, who gulped. "Oh, fair is thee, lady of the house of Garthbrookes." I recited mechanically. "Sir Cambridge, you flatter me. I am but a humble Lady, yet thou speakest to me as though I am a queen." Butters said, his voice sounding so small and feminine due to his nervousness. "You are my queen." I said, and didn't have time to catch myself before I realized that that wasn't on the printed paper I had read earlier. It seemed to throw Butters for a loop for a moment, but he recovered. "I am but a princess of a lesser house. Why dost thou court me?" he played along, stepping to the side and brushing his pants off as a woman would a large poofy dress. It made me smile. "Milady, thou art the only royalty I see. Queen of my heart and mind. And as for your status… you shall soon rule an entire country. Do not be so humble." I was more on script this time, yet still technically paraphrasing. Butters seemed to not notice. "Thou art aware of the Lord of Dispair's intentions to steal me?" he asked, he was holding his head high, like a noble woman. I just wanted to kiss his face off. Is that weird? I took his hands in mine, falling to one knee before him, and looked into his beautiful turquoise eyes as I spoke. "I would fight off demons and gods alike, just to see your smile, my princess." "Great! Very well done you two!" the instructor (I'm going to call him Edgar Warhol) called from his seat, standing and applauding us. I stood, rubbing the back of my neck nervously. "Um… ken-Kenny… you can let go of my hands now…" Butters stammered, and I yelped, snatching my hands back. His face was bright pink now, but I attributed it to the stage lights above us. Geez. It was getting hot. I should probably take off this parka. "You two were excellent! I'm so happy to have some actual talent in my theatre this year!" Edgar Warhol beamed, ushering us off stage so that the next person could come on.


	6. Chapter 6

"Well, Bunny. Looks like we definitely got a part in the play, eh?" I chuckled nervously, trying to break the awkward silence that had fallen between us on our way to lunch. "Yeppers!" he quipped, smiling weakly. I frowned. Had I done something wrong? I opened my mouth to ask but noticed Cartman hanging around his locker, though it was closed and his book bag was seated on the floor by his feet. When he saw me he bore into me with his chocolate brown eyes, a silent plea of "come here". I nodded, holding up one finger to say a soundless "one moment". I turned to Butters, who had a slight frown crinkling his pretty pale face. "Go on ahead. I'll be along." I said softly, relishing the smile he gave me as an answer.

"What's up fat ass?" I asked, taking the cigarette he handed me when I had come close enough. Sure, we weren't supposed to smoke on school property, but when were things the way they were supposed to be in South Park? I had a feeling that the conversation about to happen was about one of those things that was not as everyone expected them to be. He glared at me, but he had long ago given up on trying to get anyone to stop calling him that. Sure, he'd lost his excessive weight, but the nick name "fat ass" just kinda stuck. Unfortunately for him. "Heard Stan mentioning something about going out later?" He asked, glancing around like he didn't want anyone to see us speaking. "Um yeah. You coming?" I asked boredly, scratching the side of my head. "Yeah… about that…" he mumbled, averting his eyes from me. So _that's_ why he was acting suspicious. Stan mentioned it. He just didn't invite Cartman. I smirked, shifting my weight onto my left leg. "You want me to invite you?" I asked, chuckling as he glared at me. "Why should I?" I asked, slipping my hands into the pocket of my parka. "I'll give you lunch money for a month. And let you borrow my X-cube." He said, averting his eyes again and glaring at the lunchroom door. I rubbed my chin, contemplating. I had planned on inviting him the moment I figured that that was what he wanted, but doing a good deed and getting a months worth of free lunch and a gaming system was just too good of a deal to turn down. "deal." I said, shaking his hand and paying no attention as to why he wanted to tag along so badly.

The lardass was strangely quiet during lunch that day. I saw him tense up as I mentioned the dinner plans to Stan, who begrudgingly accepted to allow Cartman to tag along. Kyle wasn't at lunch today, probably working extra in the library again. That kid, man… anyway I had Bunny sit next to me, much to the surprise of Stan and Cartman, though they didn't oppose. At some point they even attempted to get Butters to engage in civil conversation. It was really nice. I kept having to resist the urge to put my arms around Bunny's shoulders. "So why'd you fight Clyde, Kenny?" Stan eventually asked, apparently oblivious to my glare of anger and the way Bunny suddenly got uncomfortable. "He was being an ass hole." I grumbled, glancing at Butters, hoping he was alright. "Yeah, well so is Cartman" Stan paused, shooting an unusually hateful glance at said brunette, "you have never fought him" I sighed. "He did something that really pissed me off." I said, unable to hide the annoyance in my voice. "I was… uh…. I was gonna go see him today, Ken…" Butters mumbled, pushing his chair back from the table quickly. "B…Bunny?" I stammered. "I have to go…" Butters stammered, turning and running off from the crowded cafeteria, bumping into people and shakily apologizing. "Geez… what's his problem?" Cartman asked with a bored look and a fork full of potatoes inches from his mouth.

Buzzzzzzz….. Buzzzzzzz….. I sighed, picking up my phone and looking at the picture on the screen. It was Mary Pavlovich. The tart I mentioned earlier. I slid the little green phone icon to the right and pressed the cold metal and fiberglass to my ear. "Hiya, Ken! I was wondering if you'd like to go to the movies?" she asked. Her voice was high pitched and grated my ears. Nothing like Butters' little angle voice. I chided myself inwardly for thinking of him for the hundredth time. He loved Clyde. No room for me there. "Sure Mary. When?"

"Why did you invite that ass hat?" Stan snapped as I climbed into his Volkswagen. "We grew up with him. Thought it'd be nice to get the group together again." I yawned. I felt really tired. Butters had been on my mind since the conversation in the cafeteria and it was beginning to take a serious toll on me. "We all hang out a lot." He glared, disbelief in his eyes, yet dropped it. "Get in the back. I want Kyle to sit up front with me." Stan grumbled and I chuckled. "Yeah, yeah. So you can make goo goo eyes under the street lights." I teased, laughing when he swerved unintentionally as he freaked out a bit. We pulled up in front of Cartman's house, seeing him sitting on his stoop, a small orange light illuminating his face. I didn't really like that Cartman smoked. I'm immortal. My lung dies and I'll get a new one tomorrow. But Cartman was just a human (an incredibly lucky human, as were Stan and Kyle). He stood when he saw us coming near, making his way through the unplowed walk way of his yard, stomping through the snow. He yanked the car's back seat door open unceremoniously and dropped himself on the seat beside me, causing the whole car to lean with the added weight. Stan sighed quietly, roughly shoving the gear stick into drive and accelerating. We had to honk the horn when we got to Kyle's house. And a few seconds after, the little ginger Jew came running down his nicely snow-cleared walkway. Stan gestured to the passenger seat and Kyle nodded, crossing in front of the car. He pulled the door open tenderly, then his eyes widened when he saw who was seated next to me. He turned and shot Stan a confused look, but then seemed to dismiss it as he sat in the passenger seat. I grinned and looked down at my phone, quickly typing a reply to one of Mary's messages.


End file.
